Interplanetary Fruits
by Banana Bunny
Summary: Just random ideas on what could happen if Rose turned into some random social stereotype and how the Doctor would react. Rated K because I think it's ok, but you can never be sure...


**The Epic Saga of Interplanetary Fruits...**

**The Emo Fruit**

_Disclaimer: Whine as I may, I do not own any part of Doctor Who. Nothing at all. Nada. Now leave me while I cry._

_Please read and review, this is the first one I wrote and if you like it I'm planning at least three more... :)_

"I'm hungry." Rose whined as the TARDIS' engines started up.

"I think there's still stuff in the fridge…" The Doctor muttered, fiddling with the TARDIS' control panel. Rose walked down the corridor and turned left into the kitchen where a giant fridge was humming quietly against a wall. Rose opened the door and looked inside.

"Crisps…nah…Chips…ew, cold…what's this?" she pulled out a small purple and black checked fruit, shrugged and ate it. "Hmm. Tastes like cherry." She said to herself before frowning. "Who am I talking to?"

"Yourself." The Doctor replied, amused. He leant against the doorway and smiled. "Where do you want to go next?"

"I don't know. What's the point anyway?" Rose replied, looking tired.

"Are you ok?" The Doctor frowned, walking over to her.

"Don't touch me." Rose said, bored. She walked past him to her room down the corridor and he watched her go. He looked in the fridge, picked up the plate and stared at it in shock.

"The emo fruit!" he whispered in horror, before dropping the plate and running to Rose's room. "Rose…!"

"I'm trying to, like, get changed…" Rose's monotonous voice came from within. The Doctor walked in and then froze. Rose's walls were dark purple instead of the usual pale blue.

"Um…Rose? I think this is important…ARE THOSE MY GLASSES?" he said suddenly as Rose appeared in front of him, wearing what seemed to be his dark-rimmed glasses.

"So what if they are?" Rose shrugged. "You, like, don't need them."

"And you, like, don't own them! Give them back!" The Doctor said, sticking his tongue out. Rose stuck her middle finger up and took them off.

"You're, like, dictating my life. You're just a fascist, you know that?"

"You know the word 'fascist'?" The Doctor said in amazement. "Wow."

"That's right, just assume I'm stupid. Why shouldn't you? I mean, I'm small and insignifi…"

"Oh, shut up." The Doctor interrupted, walking out before the urge to slit his wrists became too great. Rose watched him go in disgust.

The Doctor flicked through the books in the library, wearing his newly reclaimed glasses.

"E…Em…Emo…Emo fruit!" he murmured, turning the page and reading aloud. " 'The Emo fruit was created by the inhabitants of the planet Dyforrlov in order to sustain their legacy long after the planet was invaded. The reasons for invasion are unclear, though it is thought that the neighbouring planets feared for the sanity of their peoples after depression got to an all-time high. The effects of eating the emo fruit are variable, but tend to include a monotonous voice tone and low self esteem.' " The Doctor nodded slowly. " 'The most common and amusing treatment for consumption of emo fruit is to play some form of music that the patient finds unpleasant…'" The Doctor thought for a moment, and then grinned. "Amusing?" he repeated, before slamming the book shut and running out of the room towards the center of the TARDIS.

"Alright, Rose?" he called as he ran past her room. Hawthorne Heights was blaring out of the speakers and Rose was crying quietly in the corner. She looked up as he ran past and he waved happily, noticing her new giant black earrings.

"What would you care? You wouldn't notice if…" The Doctor never did find out what she was saying, because he Sonic Screwdriver-ed the lock on her door before he too started losing the will to live. He ran to the TARDIS' control system and pulled his iPod out of his pocket, shoving it into a plug on the surface.

"A…Am…Ama – here we go!" he said brightly, turning up the volume and pressing play.

In Rose's room, Hawthorne Heights suddenly cut out. Rose looked up, mascara and eyeliner streaks covering her face while she tried to cut her fringe.

"What? Why does this always happen to me?" she moaned for no apparent reason. As she hit the side of the speaker, something terrible happened. At first she thought she'd broken it, and it was playing Hawthorne Heights at double speed. Then she realized what it really was, and stepped away from it in terror.

"No…noooooo!" she whispered, running to the door. "Doctor! Let me out, you son of a…"

"I can't hear you!" he yelled on the other side, pulling the Sonic Screwdriver out of his pocket and unlocking the door. "Ah, Rose, so lovely to see you."

"What have you done?" she hissed angrily. The Doctor smiled happily.

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you haven't heard this one! He replied before pausing and joining in. "When the day is dawning…on a Texas Sunday morning…" he sang happily, dancing in circles. Rose collapsed onto the bed, trying to smother the sound with her pillow. In response, the Doctor turned up the volume and set the bass boost to 'max', still jumping around. At first, nothing happened. Then Rose's pillow went back to being covered in multicolored dots, quickly followed by the rest of her bed. Her walls slowly turned to blue again and the poems decorating the walls were replaced with photos of her and Jack and the Doctor once more. Rose sat up and looked at the Doctor.

"Am I me?" she asked in her usual voice. The Doctor looked at her seriously.

"Name Hawthorne Height's album."

"Haw who?" Rose said slowly, frowning. The Doctor grinned.

"Yes, you're back to normal." He turned the iPod off and looked at her sternly.

"Now, Rose, what's the moral of this story?"

"Um…always ask before eating strange food?" Rose replied after a moment's thought.

"Well, yeah, I guess…but what's another moral?" he said quickly.

"Never cut your fringe without a mirror?" Rose said again.

"Yeah…but…oh, never mind. Listen, Rose, because I'm only going to say this once." The Doctor sighed. Rose leant forward. The only sound in the TARDIS was the slight humming of Rose's hair straighteners from where she'd left them heating for too long. The Doctor paused.

"Ok. Are you ready? The moral of the story is to never, EVER choose fruit over crisps or chips."

_So what do you think? Please review, I have a big bag of muffins just ready to be shared...pick a flavour, any flavour..._


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